


Take Care

by sevenseasofhi



Category: Queen (Band)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-21
Updated: 2019-02-21
Packaged: 2019-11-01 13:58:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,386
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17868563
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sevenseasofhi/pseuds/sevenseasofhi
Summary: You’re a waitress at a local pub and one day when a couple of customers get a little rowdy, you get caught in it. When you come home and Roger sees bruises on you, he freaks out.





	Take Care

“Just go home, Y/N. We can handle the rest of the night.” Your manager Eileen, says to you, placing a hand on your shoulder. 

You’re sitting in the break room holding an ice pack to your eye, and trying to ignore the faint throbbing in your head. Two drunk customers had decided to go at it in the middle of the bar over something dumb, and when their friends took sides it got messy fast. You had been right in the middle of it, and by the time someone thought to pull you out of the way, you had the promise of a wicked black eye forming, and finger shaped bruises around your upper arm.

“I can keep-“ You start now, but your boss comes in and quickly cuts you off.

“You’re not staying. I want you to take tomorrow too, already called Emily, she’s got your shift covered.” Your boss says, and you bite down on your tongue to keep the argument you had ready from coming out. Thinking about how nice your coworkers are makes a lump form in your throat, and you swallow thickly before speaking.

“Okay.” Your voice is quiet, you can feel tears prick your eyes as the reality of the situation sets in. Your bruises ache more persistently with every minute, the adrenaline wearing off quickly now. 

“Do you need me to call a cab?” Eileen says, gesturing to the phone. 

“Thanks, but it’s only a few blocks to my flat. I’ll just walk.” You gingerly remove the ice from your eye, trying not to wince. Your head is clearing, all you can think about is getting home, and you don’t waste any time grabbing your coat and purse. “See you in a few days.”

“Just rest okay, dear?” Eileen smiles sweetly at you, and walks you to the back door. She pulls you in for a quick hug and you let yourself lean into her for a moment. “Make that boyfriend of yours take care of you.”

“I will.” You give her a smile, but your stomach has dropped. Oh god, what was Roger going to say? He hates you working there, always complains about how the guys that frequent the bar treat you when he brings the boys by or comes to pick you up.

“Bye!” Eileen calls out before the door shuts behind you. 

You start the ten minute walk home, pulling your coat tight around you. It’s after 11, and it’s starting to get colder at night as winter draws near. You’re lost in thought, running through how Roger could react. He’s going to be fucking pissed, and you’re just glad that the guys who were fighting are long gone. Talking Roger down from killing someone is the last thing you want to do tonight.

The closer you get to the flat the two of you share, the more nervous you are, twisting your hands together before shoving them into your pockets to still them. You know Roger won’t be mad at you, it’s not your fault, but he’s so protective of you he’s probably gonna feel responsible. He always feels like it’s his job to watch out for you, and you wouldn’t be surprised if he thinks he failed at it. 

You get to your flat and grab your keys out of your purse, but as you move to unlock the door you realize your hands are shaking. Taking a deep breath, you tell yourself to calm down. After a moment you finally open the door and then quickly shut it behind you to keep the cold out. The living room is empty and you let out s breath, shrugging out of your coat to lay it over the back of the couch, and setting your purse on the end table.

“Love, is that you?” Roger’s voice comes from the kitchen, and you sigh before gathering your courage and walking to lean against the kitchen doorframe. 

“Yeah, it’s me.” You’re nervous for how Roger’s gonna react, but it’s amazing how even just the sight of him makes you feel safer. You feel your shoulders relaxing from where you were unconsciously tensing them. Roger’s stood at the counter, taking the whistling kettle off the stove. He’s set up your favorite mugs, and you wait for him to turn towards you but he’s busy pulling tea bags out of the cupboard. “Hey baby, I need to talk to you.”

“Sure, what’s up?” Roger turns to face you, and you’re glad he’s not holding anything when he finally gets a good look at your face. His expression turns slightly frantic, and he rushes over to you, placing his hands on either side of your face to angle you into the light. “What the fuck happened? Are you okay?”

“I’m fine.” You try to soothe him, keeping your voice soft and your face even, but his eyes are wide and he runs a hand through your hair to push it out of the way so he can see your black eye better. 

“Like hell you are! Tell me who did this to you.” He demands, and you can see the telltale signs of his protective anger starting. 

“It was just some drunk idiots at the bar, don’t worry after the fight broke up Eileen told them to get out and that they weren’t welcome back.” You tell him calmly, your hands coming up to grip his where they’re still resting on your face. 

“Why you even on the floor, I thought you were bartending tonight? I should go kill those guys.” He says, his hands finally falling from your face to your upper arms.

“No, you shouldn’t! I told you they’re long gone and they won’t come back. It’s over now.” You cross your arms in front of you, preparing yourself for the argument you’re sure is gonna come. Your movement catches his eye, however, and he gently grasps your arm to examine the bruised flesh. You start to explain before he can say anything. “The guys’ friends got involved with the fight and it got a little messy. I caught an elbow in the eye before one of the busboys pulled me out. I think those are his fingerprints, he was hanging on tight. He’s just a teenager Rog, he was scared too.”

“Well, I’m glad he got you out.” He says, rubbing his thumb lightly over the marks on your arm. He bites his lip, and stares at the angry purple and blue lines around your bicep, avoiding meeting your eyes. “I should’ve been there.” 

“What do you mean, Rog? You were recording all day, and anyway it’s not like you can follow me to my job everyday. I can take care of myself.” You tell him firmly. You uncross your arms and bring a hand up under his chin, force him to look you in the eyes. Just like you suspected, his eyes are shining with guilt. 

“Is this all? You don’t have bruises anywhere else right?” 

“No baby, I’m gonna be fine.” You slide your hand from his chin to his cheek and lean in to kiss him. Roger’s kiss is careful, just a gentle press of his lips against yours, his arms going around your shoulders to hold you close. You wrap your arms around his waist and, sighing against his mouth in relief, let him fold you into his embrace. You break apart after a minute only to rest your head on his shoulder and he drops a kiss onto your temple while rubbing your back. 

“I’ve got you, love.” Roger says softly into your ear.

“I know you do. I love you.”

“I love you too.” He sounds like he wants to say more and you pull back far enough to see his face. The look on his face makes you step away fully and brace yourself. He only gets that expression when he’s about to say something he knows you won’t like. “I want you to quit your job.”

“Roger, please, we’ve had this conversation before-“

“Hear me out, okay?” He looks a bit desperate and you nod your head slightly, willing to hear him out. “I love how strong you are, and I know you think you need tollways be independent, but something like this has never happened before. If the dumb shit guys say to you and the late hours weren’t already reason enough for you to want to leave, please let this be. Baby, I know your coworkers are sweet to you, but that’s not a nice area you work in and the people that frequent the bar are getting worse. I hate you walking home alone after midnight and I know I can’t come get you very often. I know you can take care of yourself, but why don’t you let me take care of you instead?” 

You stare at him for a minute contemplating his words carefully. He’s right, other than your coworkers you don’t like where you’re at right now. Obviously this has been bothering him more that you thought if he’s come up with all these reasons for you to quit. The last time you two discussed this he’d been spitting mad, but now he’s calmer, patiently waiting for your answer. 

“What would I even do if I quit? I need a job?” You say carefully, and he look hopeful that you hadn’t immediately shot him down. 

“But you don’t! You live with me already, and the band is making more than enough for me to cover you.” He looks excited now, grabbing both your hands in his.

“I have to do something though, I can’t just expect you to pay for everything.” You laugh.

“And why not? I’ll get to come home to your beautiful face everyday, and know that you’re safe. Seems like a fair trade to me.” He’s grinning down at you, and you can’t believe you’re even considering this, but he just looks so damn happy at the thought of it.

“Well maybe just while I look for something else...” You trail off finally grinning back. 

“Wait seriously? You’re actually gonna quit?”

“Why, having second thoughts?” You tease.

“No, of course not! I just can’t believe you agreed.” He says leaning down and kissing your cheek on the non-bruised side. 

“While I look for another job! Remember that part?” 

“Maybe you’ll enjoy a life of leisure so much you’ll forget to look.” He winks playfully at you and smack his arm lightly. 

“Or I’d go insane waiting at home for you.” 

“Oh my god, you could come on tour with me!” He exclaims.

“Whoa there, slow down!” You grab his shoulders to hold him still. “I haven’t even quit yet and you’ve got me signed up as a permanent groupie?”

“You could be my personal assistant?” He’s got a shit-eating grin now and you roll your eyes.

“Not a chance, Taylor, I know how demanding you are.” 

“Hey!”

“But I still love you. We’ll figure something out.” You say leaning in for another quick peck, which he gives you happily.

“Yeah we will. I’ll go down with you tomorrow so you can tell your boss. Everything is gonna be fine.” He wraps his arm around your shoulders and ticks you into his side. “I love you too, y’know?”

“Of course I know. Why else would you have gone crazy and demanded I quit my job to go on tour with you all over a couple bruises?” You grin up at him, and it’s his turn to roll his eyes at you.

“Oi! I thought I was being romantic and all, offering to take care of you.” Roger’s trying to seem miffed, but isn’t doing a good job hiding his smile.

“It was really sweet. I want you to know that I appreciate you being willing to do this for me.” You turn a little more serious at that and gaze into his eyes.

“Hey, of course, love. Not only am I willing, but I want to, and I’m glad you trust me enough to let me cover you.” 

“I trust you with everything in me. You’re just gonna have to accept that you’re my soulmate, Roger Taylor.” 

“It’s an honor to be your soulmate, Y/N.” He says uncharacteristically serious. You feel your heart clench in your chest. You’re so lucky to have found Roger, sometimes it hurts how much you love each other.

“Okay, you’re going to make me cry if you keep it up with all this romance.” You laugh wetly.

“Damn, I really am good at this romantic stuff.” He says smugly and you snort out a laugh, his chuckle joining yours almost immediately.

“Hey, Rog?” 

“Yes, love?” He says smiling down at you lovingly.

“I think the kettle’s probably gone cold now.” You gesture to the counter, the everything ready but totally forgotten.

“Aw, fuck.” You’re giggling to yourself as he sets the kettle back on the stove and then comes over to kiss you. 

You melt into the sweet kiss, letting him run his thumb gently over the bruise on your eye. His other arm is around your waist pulling you flush to him and you feel totally relaxed for the first time since the bar fight hours earlier. He pulls away to look you in the eyes, but keeps his arm tight around you. 

“How are you feeling though, really?” He says softly, genuine concern lacing his voice.

“Honestly? I have a wicked headache and my eye is throbbing.” You sigh. He doesn’t waste anytime in sitting you down at the little kitchen table.

“Well I’ve got just the thing for that, some ice, a little bit of pain reliever, and the best tea in the world. Made by yours truly, of course!” He winks at you over his shoulder on the way to the freezer.

Once he gets your ice and pills, you watch him grab the milk and sugar while he waits for the kettle to come to a boil again. As Roger runs around the kitchen recounting his day for you and gathers whatever he thinks will help you feel better, you can’t help but watch him with a soft smile on your face, totally endeared to him. You know you can always trust Roger to take care of you.

**Author's Note:**

> hi im seven-seas-of-hi on tumblr if you wanna check me out there


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